The next morning, I was greeted by a soft knock on my door. For a split second, I thought maybe I was back home, that the past few days had just been a very weird, very vivid dream. But the intricate carvings on the walls and the sheer size of the room quickly reminded me that this was no dream—it was my new, baffling reality.

"Come in," I called out, pushing my messy hair out of my face.

The door creaked open to reveal Darius, dressed in what I could only describe as royal casual wear. He had that annoyingly perfect look about him—his dark hair was effortlessly neat, and his expression was one of mild amusement, as if he found my perpetual state of confusion endearing.

"Good morning," he said, leaning against the doorframe like he didn't have a care in the world.

"Is it?" I muttered, still trying to shake off the remnants of sleep.

"I thought you might want to do something productive today," he said, completely ignoring my lack of enthusiasm. "Come with me to the library. We can look for answers about the pendant."

I squinted at him, half-suspecting this was some sort of royal prank. "The library? You mean the place with books?"

"Yes," he replied slowly, as though talking to a small child.

"And you expect me to read ancient texts and magically understand the mysteries of the universe?"

"Well, I was going to help," he said, smirking. "But if you'd rather sit here and sulk..."

I groaned, dragging myself out of bed. "Fine. Lead the way, book prince."

The library was, in a word, overwhelming. Towering shelves stretched from floor to ceiling, filled with scrolls and books that looked older than my grandma's entire bloodline. Sunlight streamed in through large windows, casting a warm glow over the room, but even the cozy atmosphere couldn't distract me from the sheer impossibility of the task ahead.

"This place is insane," I said, craning my neck to look at the shelves that seemed to go on forever. "Do you guys even use all of these books?"

"Some of them, yes," Darius said, clearly amused. "Others... not so much. But they're all here for a reason."

"Right," I said, crossing my arms. "And what reason is that? To make me feel like an idiot?"

He laughed. "Come on, let's start with the section on relics and legends."

We made our way to a smaller section of the library, where the books looked even older, their leather covers cracked and their spines adorned with faded gold lettering. Darius pulled out a particularly large tome and set it down on a nearby table with a thud.

"Here we go," he said, flipping it open to a random page.

I leaned over to get a closer look, only to be met with a jumble of symbols that might as well have been alien hieroglyphs.

"Uh... Darius?" I said, pointing to the text. "What language is this?"

"Ancient Arkorian," he replied matter-of-factly.

"Great. That clears everything up," I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "Do I look like someone who can read Ancient Arkorian?"

He blinked, clearly not understanding my frustration. "You... can't read it?"

"No!" I exclaimed, throwing up my hands. "I can barely read cursive, let alone whatever this is!"

Darius looked genuinely perplexed. "But... you're wearing the Gatekeeper's Relic. I thought—"

"Yeah, well, the relic didn't come with a manual, okay?" I snapped.

For a moment, he just stared at me, like he couldn't quite wrap his head around the idea of someone not knowing Ancient Arkorian. Then, to my surprise, he laughed.

"Well," he said, still chuckling, "I guess I'll have to be your translator."

"Great," I muttered, slumping into a chair. "Just what I always wanted—a personal tutor in a language I'll never use."

He ignored my sarcasm and began flipping through the book, scanning the pages for anything relevant. I watched him for a moment, marveling at how focused he was. This was clearly his element—surrounded by books and lost in thought.

"Do you do this a lot?" I asked after a while.

"Do what?" he said, not looking up.

"Spend hours in the library, reading ancient texts about magical relics and legends."

He smiled. "Not always about relics, but yes. I've always been fascinated by history and stories of the past. It's like solving a puzzle—every piece you find brings you closer to the truth."

"Huh," I said, leaning back in my chair. "Sounds exhausting."

"It's not for everyone," he admitted. "But I enjoy it."

"Clearly," I said, gesturing to the stack of books he'd already accumulated.

We spent the next couple of hours going through book after book, with Darius translating and me trying (and failing) to make sense of it all. Most of what we found was vague and unhelpful—stories about powerful relics, ancient wars, and mysterious Gatekeepers who could open portals between worlds.

"Okay," I said after a particularly long stretch of silence. "So what I've gathered so far is that the pendant is super powerful, super dangerous, and super complicated. Did I miss anything?"

Darius smiled. "That about sums it up."

"Great," I said, rubbing my temples. "So basically, I'm carrying around a ticking time bomb that could either save the world or destroy it. No pressure."

"You're not alone in this, Alexia," he said, his voice soft but earnest. "We'll figure it out together."

I looked at him, surprised by the sincerity in his eyes. For all his quirks and royal arrogance, Darius was... kind. And maybe, just maybe, I could trust him.

"Thanks," I said quietly.

He nodded, his expression serious. "Now, let's keep looking. There has to be something in here that can help us."

Darius and I were just about to leave the library when the sound of heavy footsteps echoed down the stone corridor. At first, I didn't think much of it—this palace always seemed to have people rushing around. But then the footsteps grew louder, accompanied by the unmistakable clang of armor. Something about it made my stomach drop.

"Uh, Darius," I said, glancing toward the door. "Do you hear that?"

He frowned, tilting his head to listen. The concern on his face was all the confirmation I needed. Within seconds, the doors burst open, and a squad of guards stormed in, their expressions grim and weapons drawn.

"What is the meaning of this?" Darius demanded, stepping in front of me as if shielding me from their accusing stares.

The lead guard—a burly man with a scar across his cheek—pointed his spear directly at me. "By the order of the council, you are under arrest for the attempted assassination of the king."

For a moment, I couldn't process the words. Assassination? King? Me? It was like they'd suddenly decided to play a cruel joke, but the sharp edge of the spear told me otherwise.

"What?" I finally managed to choke out. "Are you insane? I didn't do anything!"

"Silence!" the guard barked, his eyes narrowing. "We found evidence in the king's chambers—evidence of dark sorcery. And you," he jabbed the spear closer, "are the only one capable of such foreign trickery."

"Dark sorcery?" I echoed, my voice rising. "I don't even know how to do regular sorcery! What evidence? What are you even talking about?"

One of the other guards stepped forward, holding something in his gloved hand. My stomach dropped when I saw what it was—my phone.

"Where did you get that?" I demanded, my voice cracking.

"It was found in the king's chambers," the scar-faced guard growled. "This strange device is proof enough of your foul magic."

I blinked at him, utterly dumbfounded. "That's not magic! It's a phone! A piece of technology! It doesn't do anything but take pictures and send texts—when it has service, which it doesn't here, by the way!"

"Do not mock us with your lies," the guard snapped. "This... 'phone' was discovered near the poisoned dagger that struck the king."

"Poisoned dagger?" Darius cut in, his voice sharp. "You're saying my father has been attacked?"

"Yes, Your Highness," another guard confirmed grimly. "The king was struck with a blade coated in a deadly poison. He is alive, but barely. And all evidence points to her." He gestured toward me like I was some sort of common criminal.

"That's ridiculous!" Darius snapped, stepping between me and the guards. "She's been with me all morning. How could she possibly—"

"Your Highness," the scar-faced guard interrupted, his tone more formal but no less accusatory, "you are also under suspicion. You were seen visiting her chambers yesterday and could have provided her with access to the palace. Until the council deems otherwise, you are hereby placed under arrest."

I stared at the guards, my heart hammering in my chest. This couldn't be happening. "Wait, you think he's involved now? Are you serious? He's the prince! And I didn't even know the king had been attacked until two seconds ago!"

"Enough!" the lead guard barked. "Seize them both!"

"No one is seizing anyone!" Darius shouted, his voice ringing with authority. "I demand to speak with the council. This is a mistake, and I won't stand for such baseless accusations!"

The guards hesitated, clearly torn between their orders and Darius's royal status. But before they could decide what to do, I felt a surge of frustration bubble up inside me.

"This is insane!" I snapped, throwing my hands in the air. "You think I waltzed into the king's chambers, stabbed him with a poisoned knife, and then left my phone behind as evidence? Do I look like the world's worst assassin to you?"

Darius shot me a look, half-warning, half-amused, but I wasn't done. "And what exactly do you think this 'dark sorcery' phone does, huh? Summon demons? Turn people into frogs? It doesn't even have Wi-Fi here!"

The guards exchanged uneasy glances, clearly not sure how to respond to my outburst.

"Stand down!" Darius commanded, his voice regaining its princely edge. "You have no solid proof against either of us. If you attempt to take her—or me—without proper justification, you will answer to the royal court."

For a moment, I thought his words might actually work. The guards shifted uncomfortably, their resolve wavering. But then the scar-faced leader tightened his grip on his spear.

"Forgive me, Your Highness," he said, his tone icy, "but the council has already spoken. We have our orders."

And just like that, the guards moved forward, their weapons raised. My pulse skyrocketed, and I found myself instinctively stepping closer to Darius, who stood his ground like some kind of noble hero.

"Alexia," he murmured, his voice low and urgent. "Stay close to me. I'll get us out of this."

I didn't have time to question him because, in the next instant, chaos erupted.

The guards lunged forward, and Darius reacted faster than I thought possible. He grabbed a heavy tome from one of the nearby tables and hurled it at the closest guard's head. The poor guy staggered back, dazed, giving Darius just enough time to grab my wrist and pull me toward the back of the library.

"Run!" he hissed, dragging me behind him.

"But—"

"Now!"

I didn't need to be told twice. We sprinted through the maze of shelves, the guards' shouts and clanging armor growing louder behind us. My heart felt like it was trying to punch its way out of my chest, and my brain couldn't keep up with what was happening.

"This is insane!" I gasped, barely keeping pace. "Why are we running? Aren't you, like, in charge?"

"Technically, yes!" he called over his shoulder. "But when people think you've tried to kill the king, they stop listening to reason!"

"Great! Just great! So what's the plan?"

"Working on it!"

We rounded a corner, and Darius skidded to a halt in front of a tall bookshelf. He yanked on one of the wooden carvings embedded in the frame, and to my utter disbelief, the entire shelf slid to the side, revealing a hidden passageway.

"Seriously?" I gawked at him. "A secret door? What are you, a medieval Batman?"

"Would you rather stay here and argue, or not get arrested for treason?" he shot back, already stepping inside.

"Point taken." I followed him in, and the door slid shut behind us, muffling the guards' shouts.

The passageway was narrow and dimly lit by flickering sconces on the walls. It smelled like dust and old stone, and I had to fight the urge to sneeze.

"Where does this lead?" I asked, my voice echoing slightly.

"To the east wing," Darius replied, his tone clipped. "If we can get to the stables, we might be able to escape before they figure out where we've gone."

"Escape? Are you serious? Darius, we can't just—"

"What's the alternative, Alexia?" he snapped, stopping to face me. "Let them arrest us? Let them drag you off for a crime you didn't commit? You saw how irrational they were. They won't listen to us right now."

I clenched my fists, frustration bubbling up inside me. He wasn't wrong, but that didn't make this situation any less infuriating.

"Fine," I muttered, glaring at him. "But if we get caught, I'm blaming you."

"Noted," he said dryly, already moving again.

We navigated the passageway in tense silence, the sound of our footsteps bouncing off the walls. My mind was racing with questions, each one more ridiculous than the last. Who had framed me for the king's assassination? Why use my phone as evidence? And how the hell was I supposed to clear my name in a place where people thought technology was witchcraft?

After what felt like an eternity, we reached the end of the passageway. Darius pressed his ear to the door, listening intently.

"All clear," he whispered, pushing it open.

We stepped out into a grand hallway lined with ornate tapestries and marble statues. It looked like something straight out of a museum, but I didn't have time to admire the scenery.

"This way," Darius said, leading me toward the nearest staircase.

We descended as quickly and quietly as we could, my nerves on edge with every step. The sound of approaching footsteps made me freeze, and I instinctively grabbed Darius's arm.

"Guards," I whispered, my voice barely audible.

He nodded, his expression tense. "Stay behind me."

The footsteps grew louder, and my heart felt like it was about to explode. But just as the guards rounded the corner, Darius pulled me into an alcove, pressing a finger to his lips to keep me silent.

The guards passed by without noticing us, their voices fading into the distance. I let out a shaky breath, my legs feeling like jelly.

"That was too close," I muttered.

"Welcome to palace politics," Darius said, his tone wry.

We continued toward the stables, my anxiety mounting with every step. By the time we reached the courtyard, the sun was beginning to set, casting long shadows across the cobblestones.

"We'll take the back exit," Darius said, his voice low. "If we're lucky, we can slip out before anyone realizes we're gone."

"Lucky?" I echoed, raising an eyebrow. "Have you met us? Luck is not exactly on our side."

He shot me a look but didn't respond, leading me toward the stables.

We saddled two horses as quickly as we could, the animals snorting and shifting nervously as if sensing our urgency.

"Do you even know how to ride?" Darius asked, watching as I awkwardly tried to mount my horse.

"Define 'know how to,'" I said, gripping the reins like my life depended on it.

He rolled his eyes but didn't argue, swinging onto his own horse with practiced ease.

"Just hold on and try not to fall off," he said, nudging his horse into a trot.

"Great advice," I muttered, following him out of the stables.

We rode out into the twilight, the palace fading into the distance behind us. My mind was still racing, a whirlwind of fear, anger, and disbelief.

Whoever had framed me for this mess wasn't just trying to get rid of me—they wanted to destroy me. And as much as I hated to admit it, I had no idea how to fight back.